


Love Me [In Spanish]

by Starfruit



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Bad Spanish, Feel the need to note that this fic is about Spanish but in English, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jealousy, M/M, Memories, Rapper Ernest, also rappers are writers so it kind of makes sense sort of almost, because I was thinking of him while listenin to Amine's Caroline, because i dont know spanish, i can only finish fics if i write crappy one shots at ungodly hours, i have this headcanon of rapper Ernest, latinx vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfruit/pseuds/Starfruit
Summary: Lucien and Ernest have grown up and tumultuously become an item. Everything seems to be going smoothly until feelings of jealousy come up (in Spanish).Or:Pablo shares something with Ernest that Lucien doesn't.





	Love Me [In Spanish]

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly.... I mean for all we know, the Bloodmarch family could be latinx and/or Hispanic too but... for all intents and purposes of this fic they ain't. 
> 
> Also I don't know Spanish. 
> 
> Also I love this pairing and want to/am working on more stuff about their healthy/unhealthy love/hate relationship and all its discoveries and ups and breakthroughs and downs and breakdowns and breakups and fixes. 
> 
> Also I wrote this with no beta at an ungodly hour i dont know what im doing send help

It had been a handful of months since Ernest had kicked off his budding rap career. And even more months since he and Lucien had made things official between them. It took some yelling and crying and weirdly violent make-out sessions, but they had eventually settled on being in a faithful, monogamous romantic relationship.

 

They were no longer the same rebellious teens who lit people on fire and tried to Cask of Amontillado their friends. Now Ernest's fires came from his hot lyrics. And any bricks Lucien was laying remained solely in the bathroom.

 

Ernest, though still relatively prickly, had calmed down becoming a laid back 17 year old with dreams of making it big. Suspicions were that perhaps he used to have a bit of a Napoleon complex, and maybe his growth spurt helped alleviate some feelings of inferiority. A few other physical changes were his jawline squaring out to be more manly and body thickening becoming just slightly more muscular - if not a little chubby at the gut. His face remained speckled with lazy stubble and a hoodie was his still his go-to outfit.

 

Lucien had also been blessed with a few more inches of height, allowing him to stay taller than his boyfriend if only by a centimeter or so. His style was similar, but he had grown out his hair, resting a healthy white ponytail down his right shoulder.

 

Their most proud physical change, though, was the matching tongue piercings they had acquired one very not-sober night long before they had even begun dating.

 

They were happily moving along in life (together) when Lucien slammed face first into an annoying green-haired and camouflage-pants-wearing roadblock.

 

Lucien glared at Pablo as he and Ernest clapped hands and bumped chests. Pablo said some greeting in Spanish which Ernest replied with grinning Spanglish.

 

Lucien hoped it wasn't too obvious how much he hated Pablo with his easy going personality and perfect hair and cute butt. And fuck HIS SPANISH AND BUTT WERE SO GOOD.

 

Ernest’s dads would be able to relate easily with already similar cultures and languages and Ernest and him could touch each other’s great butts and kiss in Spanish and shit. Lucien would just be left on the sidelines confused about anything that's going on.

 

Lucien would always remember this one time going out to eat with Pablo after he and Ernest had performed at the same show. They’d spent about 35 minutes talking about Pablo’s issues with his father and the word maricón. As the two conversed naturally, slipping from language to language (sometimes mid-sentence), Lucien could only sit there, spinning the gears of his mind. What is a maricón? That instrument you shake in elementary school when you can't play anything else? No, that's a maraca. Oh! It's those bands that use maracas! Wait, no, damn, that's a mariachi band. On second thought, do mariachi bands use maracas? Of course, he just remembered! It's that dance that's like doo doo doo doo doo duh doo doo doo and you put your hands on your hips and shoulders and ah shit that's the macarena. A cookie? That's a macaron. A coconut cookie? Those are macaroons. A descriptive word for things from the country of Morocco? No, that's Moroccan! WHAT THE HELL IS A MARICÓN.

 

“Haha look at Lucien,” Ernest laughed, pinching his boyfriend’s cheek. “He has no idea what the hell we’re talking about!”

Lucien swatted Ernest’s hand away and snapped, “I do too!”

“Oh yeah, what are we saying then?” Ernest snickered, turning Lucien silent and red faced.

“I'm sorry, Lucien,” Pablo gasped. “We’ve just been going on and on like this. I didn't mean to make you feel left out.”

Lucien was about to say something but then Ernest ruffled his hair and said, “Nah, he's usually quiet like this anyways. Es poco malo,” he said with a laugh.

Pablo scoffed jokingly, giving Ernest a friendly hit. “Tu es malo! A real cabrón!”

Ernest laughed some more then Pablo leaned towards Lucien and said, “Repeat after me: cabrón. Ca-brrrrrrrón.”

This time it was Ernest’s turn to playfully hit Pablo. “Don’t teach him that! Haha!”

Lucien flinched slightly as Ernest put his arm around his shoulders. He sank a bit into his seat. He felt so uncomfortable. Not just because he couldn't follow the conversation, but also Ernest’s legs spread so damn wide, he left barely any space for Lucien. Lucien sat in silence and wondered when had he started accepting feeling so tiny.

 

“Fuck that dude, honestly!” Ernest complained, bringing Lucien back to the present. “He goes around saying he's going to put out a diss track and it’s like-” the next part Lucien didn't register because it was most definitely in Spanish. He groaned inwardly. It begins.

 

As the the pair of musicians went on to engage in a conversation that Lucien could only about halfway understand, the gothic young adult recalled a time in which Ernest was actually embarrassed about his second language.

 

Every time Ernest would see that his grandmother was calling, he would slip away, talk, and return as though nothing had happened. If someone would try to speak to him in anything other than English, he would wave it off. When asked why Ernest found his other dad’s new boyfriend, Matías, to be annoying, he didn't really have a reason.

 

After a discussion where Lucien convinced him that speaking Spanish didn't transform him a stereotype, Ernest changed a bit.

 

He would have full-blown Spanish conversations with his abuela right in front of Lucien. If a stranger asked for directions in Spanish, a Spanish reply is what they got. And Lucien finally got the explanation that though Ernest speaks enough to be considered fluent, he can't read and write that well yet his other dad’s new boyfriend INSISTS on texting him in Spanish (which he feels embarrassed to admit he has a to look quite a few things up).

 

Lucien was happy that Ernest was feeling more comfortable and confident to show another side of himself (plus he thought it was dead sexxy). Until he started speaking Spanish with Pablo. Like some sexy secret lover’s language that Lucien would never know. He had tried studying some so that maybe he could keep up but DAMN SPANISH IS FAST AND WHAT - THE TEXTBOOK SAYS ONE THING BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT THEY'RE SAYING. “Babe, that's ‘cause this is like Spaniard European Spanish and we speak with more slang and in our own dialects.” WELL... FUCK.

 

Pablo turned to Lucien and said a long string of words that were basically just noise to the other man. Lucien stared at his green haired enemy blankly in silence. Then Ernest laughed, saying, “English, man, English!”

 

With Ernest’s laugh rang in his ears, Lucien could barely concentrate on what Pablo was now clearly saying. “Oh, sorry. I've worked up an appetite. I was just wondering if you’re hungr- huh? Are you okay, Lucien? Why are you crying?”

 

Ernest’s laughter shut off like a switch and he was by Lucien’s side immediately, wiping away the tears. “Babe, what's wrong? Why’re you like this all of sudden?” Oh, God, was Lucien embarrassed, blushing horribly for showing weakness in front his ultimate foe.

 

“Is everything all-” Pablo began.

 

“Fuck outta here, Pablo.” Ernest snarled. “Leave’us alone.”

 

“Well, shit, sorry…” Pablo grumbled, backing out quickly.

 

With Pablo gone, Lucien felt more at ease to let out a sniffle and clear away his own tears.

 

“Lucien, what's up? What happened?”

 

He didn't even know how to start answering that. Despite the person cared for most being right there, he felt angry and sad and lonely. He felt frustrated and scared that this random green-haired, great-butted jerk knew more about his boyfriend than he ever could. He was afraid their whole relationship was just lost in translation. Because of that, he didn't even know what to say so he accidentally started crying more.

 

Painfully uncomfortable and unsure of what to do, Ernest simply hugged his boyfriend until the sobs subsided into a soft silence.

 

“...Ready to tell me what's going on?” Ernest asked.

 

“I hate Pablo,” Lucien replied, face snuggled into the crook of Ernest’s neck.

 

Ernest stepped back a bit. “What? Why?”

 

“Because you two always get to talk about stuff in Spanish and I don't get what's going on and his butt’s great and his hair is great and I'm…”

 

“...you're jealous?”

 

Lucien’s eyes were stubbornly on the ground, trying to look tough and snobby in spite of their puffy redness.

 

“Babe… so I looked at his butt one time. But you just said it's great so you’ve looked too!” Ernest mumbled, giving Lucien’s head a pat.

 

Lucien wanted to melt into the hold, gentle and loving, but something in him clicked wothin that moment. This wasn't about Pablo.

 

“It's more than that…” Lucien said.

 

“Okay, so I've looked more than one time, but can you really blame me?”

 

“No,” Lucien said, speaking more firmly and looking Ernest in the eyes now. “No, this isn't about my jealousy. This is about you.”

 

Ernest gulped. “What did I do?”

 

“It's not just leaving me out of conversations with him and laughing about it- it's when you speak for me like I'm a child or rub my head like I'm a dog. Or take up so much room in a goddamn restaurant booth like I'm so much tinier than you! I'm not. Stop trying to make me feel so… small.” Lucien hugged himself and for single second worried if he had said something wrong. But only for a second.

 

“Lucien, I- I didn't mean to do that to you,” Ernest said, looking away. “But honestly… I know I have been.”

 

Lucien looked at his lover with a furrowed brow.

 

Ernest rubbed the back of his neck. “But still it's not on purpose. Sometimes I- I can feel myself treating you like less than I’m supposed to... I don't know. Being real, I find myself acting more like my dad by the day.” Based on the behavior they were referencing, it was clear that he didn't mean Hugo. “There are certain fights I can remember. Even the way he talks to Matías is… weird. I can tell it's wrong. But I don't know.”

 

Lucien held Ernest’s hand. Wow, had they come a long way. In the past he would have simply demanded that Ernest do better. Or when even bringing something like this up, it would have been met with “Quit being such a drama queen and get over it.”

 

“It's okay,” Lucien said, giving his lover’s hand a gentle squeeze and then smiling in a way that only Ernest would ever see. “You recongnize it, so… we’ll work on it. Together, or something.”

 

Ernest pulled Lucien in for another hug. “Thanks for putting up with my bullshit.”

 

Lucien snickered. “It's hard but I try.”

 

Ernest laughed. “Te amo, mi amor.”

 

Lucien blushed and held tighter. “Yo, same.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The three sat together, munching on greasy fast food and talking (a quarter of the convo in Spanish).

 

Ernest’s stomach grumbled just as he was mid-bite into a pile of fries.

 

“Uhg,” he groaned, sliding out from the table. “I'm gonna go take a shit.”

 

“Okay,” Lucien deadpanned. “Just know that you disgust me.”

 

“Got it.”

 

Alone with his enemy, Lucien stared Pablo down.

 

Feeling his powerful gaze, the other man looked up. “A-are you enjoying your veggie burger…?”

 

“For your information,” Lucien said. “Your butt has no power over true love.”

 

Pablo stared blankly back at him.

 

“What.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> My favorite parts of this fic are honest to God, them having matching tongue rings 
> 
> and "Te amo, mi amor" "Yo, same." because that's me af


End file.
